Autumn Chill

Seventeen skiffs and boats tethered In twos and threes on the river Thames With their canvas winter shrouds And rows of seagulls perched on each, Almost perfectly aligned, Heads towards honeysuckle skies Where low winter's sun declines, Reflected in cold silver flow. Close by them a solitary heron stands Stationed on a gunwale, Some feathers ruffled by a river breeze. This beholder sees the autumn beauty And foreboding of a winter's shiver With its wretched frost and freeze.